


Twenty-two

by EdgarAllenPoet



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Spanking, M/M, Non-Consensual, lots of hinting at Rywalk, poor Jon - Freeform, seriously it's just eight pages of Jon getting molested by people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-02-05
Packaged: 2018-05-18 08:34:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5914657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdgarAllenPoet/pseuds/EdgarAllenPoet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were only two things he knew to be fact at this point, maybe from his newfound knowledge as a twenty-two year old adult, but probably just from his experiences over the past two hours. The two things he knew were this:  Spencer was apparently a fucking sadist, and his ass fucking hurt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twenty-two

**Author's Note:**

> ah yes, my self-indulgent birthday spanking fic. because today is my birthday and there honestly just isn't enough spanking in the bandom in my opinion.

Jon woke up to a to the sound of rustling paper and a smack on the ass, which wasn’t particularly out of the ordinary.  He felt cool fingers slide up his back and run through his hair, but he didn’t bother cracking his eyes open to investigate until something thwacked him on the shoulder.

 

“Ugh,” he said eloquently, picking his head up and wiping the back of his hand across his mouth.  There was a spot of drool on his pillow.  Great. 

 

“Morning, sleeping beauty.”  Ryan rolled his eyes and dropped a small package onto the blankets.  “You should open that.”

 

“Birthday present?” he asked, and Ryan grinned.  He pushed Jon’s legs out of the way and perched on the edge of the bunk, hands folded in his lap. 

 

“Open it.”

 

Jon did, tearing at the paper gently and eventually revealing a colorful book.  He raised an eyebrow, because Ryan could be dastardly creative when it came to giving presents.  In April he’d given Brendon a copy of  _ Beautiful You _ , which had him ranting about the dangers of vibrators and sexual and emotional manipulation for over a month. Jon would rather not read anything life changing, thanks.

 

He flipped the book over and instantly burst out laughing.  Life changing, maybe not, but he’d read a website about this book that talked about life changing sex.  Jon covered his eyes with his hand and smacked Ryan on the arm with the book.

 

“Kama sutra? Really?” he asked.  “Are you trying to send a message?”

 

“I only have your best interests at heart,” Ryan deadpanned.  “We’re parking in two hours.”  He patted Jon on the knee through his blanket and wandered off towards the front of the bus again. 

 

“Maybe we should use your birthday present later!” Jon called after him, to which Ryan replied, 

 

“In your dreams.” 

  
  


…

 

Jon pushed the book aside and rolled out of bed.  His phone screen told him it was almost two in the afternoon, but time had no meaning on the road so it didn’t much matter.  Brendon was still mumbling in his sleep in the bunk above Jon’s. 

He plugged his phone into the the charger since it was only at thirty percent or so.  He was not about to spend a day backstage without his phone there to distract him.  His bandmates were awesome, but Ryan had a new book he was working his way through, and Spencer always seemed to get preoccupied keeping Brendon company, which meant Jon would either have to tag along while they tried to break onto the roof of the venue to throw candy at teenagers or keep himself entertained. 

 

Zack hadn’t been very pleased with them last time they’d gotten on the roof, so.

 

Spencer was coming out of the miniscule bus bathroom, toothbrush sticking out of his mouth, as Jon went in.  Jon said good morning to him, and Spencer replied by winking and then smacking him on the ass.  And okay.  What? 

 

Jon hissed in a breath and jumped and was about to ask Spencer what the hell that was for? But Spencer was already back in the lounge, and Jon decided it would be best to let it go.  He was probably just playing a joke. 

 

…

 

Jon seriously couldn’t wait for the hotel night they had coming to them.  Sponge baths in the tiny bus bathroom were not the same.  His hair felt disgusting, and after a few minutes he gave up entirely and headed into the kitchenette to get Lucky Charms and, like, coffee hopefully.  Unless Ross had drank it all.  He did that sometimes.  Insomnia and all that.

 

He found Brendon halfway through a bowl of cereal with the empty box tipped over in front of him.  Jon sighed in his general direction, but Brendon smiled guiltlessly up at him, sleepy glaze still over his eyes.  Jon ruffled his hair and looked for something else to eat. 

 

“Got you something,” Zack said, and then his hand clapped hard against Jon’s ass.  

 

He jumped about two feet in the air and spun around, the words “What the  _ fuck!? _ ” sputtering out of him.  But then Zack was shoving a box of cupcakes into his hands and ambling off towards the back lounge.  Jon swallowed down the rest of his words and glanced down at the box in his hands.  Chocolate cupcakes with a red bow taped on top of the box and messy handwriting spelling out ‘Happy Birthday’ in Sharpie.  He grinned and decided to let it go, heading to the kitchen table and rubbing his ass as subtly as he could, because if anyone saw him doing that they’d never let him live it down.

 

…

 

Spencer got him four times within an hour before Jon resigned himself to sitting on the couch and never getting up again ever.  The first time was kind of hilarious, and afterwards Jon realized that people were obviously after his ass for some fucking reason and had tried being more careful about it.  But Spencer was like a fucking ninja or something, and every time Jon thought he was safe he  _ wasn’t. _

 

So he was sitting on the couch barely paying attention to the Criminal Minds disc that was playing on the tv and trying to get over the fact that his butt was actually throbbing.  They needed to make a new rule about drummers not being allowed to smack people.  At least he had a cupcake, he supposed. 

 

He was actually starting to get into the episode-- the one in the second season where Spencer gets kidnapped by the crazy guy with several personalities and all that.  it was one of the episodes that always made Brendon cry, but making Brendon cry wasn’t very difficult anyways-- when, speak of the devil, Brendon threw himself into Jon’s lap.  

 

“Hey,” Brendon said, wrapping an arm around Jon’s shoulders, and Jon put up with it patiently, because some people just needed more physical affection than others.  “Hey, you’re old now. Like two years older than me.”

 

“I’m always two years older than you,” he said.  

 

“You don’t understand math, Jon Walker.”  Brendon liked to use people’s full names when he was trying to convince them of something.  Jon rolled his eyes.  

 

“I got you a birthday present,” Brendon said, pulling a poorly hidden rectangle of news comics out of his hoodie pocket.  “You should open it.”

 

Jon smiled and took the present, unwrapping the present even though he was already pretty certain he knew what it was.  Sure enough, Brendon had gotten him the DVD Jurassic World.

 

“We should watch it!” Brendon said, shoving at Jon’s shoulder.  “You know you’re totally in love with Chris Pratt.  Don’t front.”

 

Jon picked up another cupcake (breakfast of champions) and licked the top of it.

 

If anyone was in love with Chris Pratt it was Brendon, actually, but Jon wasn’t about to have that argument again.  He’d let Ryan get into it with him, and maybe he’d make a fucking power point presentation the way he did when Brendon was convinced that if you couldn’t get a girl pregnant if she was on top when you had sex.  That had been a rather painful hour and a half debate, which only ended when Zack came into the bus with a Costco sized box of condoms and told Brendon that if he got anyone pregnant, Zack would literally murder him. 

 

“Go put it in,” Brendon said, shifting off of Jon’s lap entirely and sinking down into the couch as if it were swallowing him whole.  

 

Jon shrugged and stood up to do that.  He realized his mistake a second too late, and before he can stop it Brendon was winding his hand back and smacking him.  Jon hissed in a breath and jumped forward reflexively, then looked down in dismay at his cupcake, which fell from his hand and landed on the floor icing down with a solid SPLAT.  

 

Jon just kind of stood there for a moment, mouth hanging open, before Brendon and Spencer burst into hysterical laughter behind him.  He whirled around and settled a glare on both of them, exclaiming “What the fuck, guys!?  That fucking  _ hurts _ .”  Spencer just laughed harder.

 

Ryan slunk into the room barely and stopped Jon cold.  He stood here with his ankles and his arms crossed, a playful smirk playing at his lips, and  _ oh. _  Jon felt his cheeks heat up with a blush and raised a middle finger salute to Ryan, who just laughed and sauntered away.  

 

Well.  Fuck.

  
  


…

 

Jon basically had to surrender after it happened three more times.  There were only two things he knew to be fact at this point, maybe from his newfound knowledge as a twenty-two year old adult, but probably just from his experiences over the past two hours. The two things he knew were this:  Spencer was apparently a fucking sadist, and his ass fucking  _ hurt. _

 

The bus finally rolled to a stop, and Jon was ready to get out into the venue and away from all of these crazy people. Brendon was, of course, the first one off the bus.  Jon followed him and Spencer off, and as he passed through the doorway Zack landed a spank so hard that Jon yelped out loud and fell into Spencer’s back. 

 

“Whoa there, tiger,” Spencer said.  Jon pushed away from him, righting himself and shoving his hands in his pockets.  If he was pouting slightly, he wasn’t going to admit to it.  He figured he had a right to be pissed, because this seriously wasn’t funny anymore, despite how hard Brendon was giggling.  

 

He was planning on just pouting and not talking to anyone for the rest of the day, but then Ryan came up behind him and slipped his hand into Jon’s back pocket, and he relaxed slightly. 

 

“You okay?” Ryan asked in a hushed voice. Jon cracked a grin and nodded, because it had to be over, right?  They weren’t going to keep this shit up in public.

 

…

 

He realized how wrong he was when he and Ryan wandered off to locate a bathroom.  They were in… actually Jon doesn’t know where they are, but Ryan insists that they had awesome rose shaped soaps in a particular bathroom last time they were here.  Jon was a sweet and patient -- he didn’t really dare to say ‘boyfriend’ in fear of jinxing whatever was going on between them-- so he followed Ryan through dizzying hallways and moldy stairwells.  He should have seen it coming, honestly.  Maybe he did.  But somewhere near either the second or fifth floor, Ryan smacked him on the top of the thigh and Jon missed an entire stair.  

 

Ryan caught him with an arm around the waist and laughed, thankfully keeping Jon from falling and breaking his fucking leg.  

 

A tech who was running up the stairs towards them snickered behind his hand, and Jon shoved Ryan back a bit and stormed off to their dressing room. 

 

…

 

“Jon Walker, my favorite beard!” Pete shouted.  Jon put down the eyeliner pencil and glanced at Pete in the mirror just in time for Pete to run up and smack him on the ass with something way too hard to be his hand.  Jon gritted his teeth and glared down at the book Pete dropped on a nearby couch. 

 

Well, he thought.  Fuck.  He rubbed his ass through his too-thin boxer briefs and went to put his pants back on before anyone else could take a swing at him.

 

…

 

Pete left before soundcheck and promised to see them all at the birthday party (read: a dozen bottles of booze and Brendon drunkenly kissing everyone on the neck in a hotel room far too small for the dozen people that would be there).  Jon was paranoid the entire time, too uneasy to actually let himself focus on his bass parts.  Thankfully he could play most of their songs in his sleep, otherwise they may have rallied against him and sought out a new bass player for the evening. 

 

They were fucking lucky to have him. 

 

No.  In the end Jon wasn’t the problem, nor was he the one in trouble.  That was all Brendon who was throwing himself hyperactively around the stage and flirting kind of grossly with the poor guy trying to adjust their sound levels.  During a run-through of Lying Brendon kicked his mic-stand and sent it skittering to the stage floor.  A screeching feedback sound cracked through the air and they all winced.  Brendon was laughing until Ryan reached over and swatted him. 

 

Brendon, always the over reactor, leapt forward and rubbed the offended area.  “Hey!” he protested.  “It’s not  _ my _ birthday!” 

 

And that was when it all kind of snapped into place.  This was a  _ birthday spanking _ .  That made sense.  

 

The only problem now was that he had no idea what number they were at.  It had to be close to twenty-two.  He’d checked himself out in the bathroom mirror in their dressing room (deep pink, unsurprisingly), and he wasn’t sure he could take much more of this. 

 

…

 

The next one was entirely Jon’s fault, if he’s being entirely honest with himself.  He should have known better at this point, but he’d been about five moves away from breaking his high score in 2048 when Spencer reached over and snatched his phone out of his hands.  

 

“Oh hell nah,” Jon had exclaimed and lunged for it as Spencer held it up and far out of reach.  He lost his balance, hand slipping off the couch cushion, and fell flat over Spencer’s lap, which was, of course, perfect.

 

“Fuck!” he shouted when Spencer’s hand landed hard against the seat of his pants, his other arm braced in between his shoulder blades and holding him down tight to the couch.  The rough fabric of the couch-- which probably wasn’t something he wanted to be rubbing his face against. shit -- scratched against his cheek as Spencer’s spanked him again.  

 

Jon groaned and tried to push himself up.  “Fucking  _ stop!   _ Spencer!” 

 

Someone was going to hear them and come investigate at this point, and that was not something Jon wanted people to see.  

 

Spencer laughed quietly, said “Breathe, Jwalk,” and rubbed the curve of Jon’s ass gently.  That actually helped some, easing some of the sting off, but then Jon felt a very familiar rush in the front of his pants and started to panic.  

 

Spencer got three more burning smacks on him, but Jon had two older brothers who taught him how to fight dirty when he had too.  He managed to bury his elbow in Spencer’s ribs and roll free while Spencer was surprised.  

 

He landed on the floor and hissed in another breath because  _ seriously _ his  _ ass.   _ He glared up at Spencer, who smiled his stupid dazzling smile and said, “Happy birthday.”  He pulled a brightly colored gift bag out from under the couch and held it out.  They kept eye contact for a long second before they both burst out laughing, and Jon laid back on the floor and covered his eyes with his arm.  He tried not to think about why he was half hard or whether Spencer could see it through his jeans.

  
  


…

  
  


Todd, the singer from the baby band they had touring with them, smacked Jon on the ass as they filed onto the stage, and great… apparently everyone was in on this.

  
  


…

 

They’re in between songs, and Jon wasn’t paying attention.  Brendon was bantering with the crowd and making Ryan grin into his microphone, which distracted him enough that he didn’t notice Brendon until it was too late.  

 

Brendon sauntered up and smacked him, leaving his hand there for a second too long and squeezing.  He pressed a sloppy, sweaty kiss to Jon’s neck and yelled, “Guess who’s birthday it is!” into his microphone.  Awesome.  The internet was going to be overflowing with rumors about Brendon and Jon’s uncontrollable lust for each other now.  There were worse things, honestly, but Jon preferred the ones featuring Spencer and Ryan.  He liked to follow them around and read them outloud until Spencer turned beat red and Ryan got all squirmy and uncomfortable.  It was  _ hilarious _ .

 

“Who thinks we should give him more birthday spankings!?” Brendon asked the crowd, which was when Jon laughed and shoved the little freak away from him. 

 

In the end it was actually Spencer who came to the rescue, leaning into his mike and singing the first words to “Happy Birthday” until the entire audience was preoccupied with singing to him and Jon was grinning so hard his cheeks hurt.

 

As the song wound down, Brendon leaned in close again and whispered, “That’s twenty,” his hot breath tickling Jon’s ear.

  
  


…

 

At least Jon had a number now.  Only two more.  He could totally handle two more, so long as he stayed away from both Spencer and Zack.  Just thinking about the aching handprints they’d left on him had him cringing.  

 

He didn’t do too good of a job at it, though.  He and Brendon were walking along, freshly showered and on their way to sign before the party in an hour or so.  They were laughing, Brendon shaking his hair out like a dog and getting water droplets all over Jon.  Jon closed his eyes and shoved Brendon away from him, and that was when Jon just about fell into a pothole and broke his fucking ankle. 

 

Zack was kind of the greatest security guard ever, though.  He grabbed Jon by the back of the hoodie and yanked him back.

 

“Be careful,” Zack said gruffly, and the swat he delivered actually brought tears to Jon’s eyes.  

 

“Sorry,” he said, blushing and humiliated, feeling like a scolded child.  Zack ruffling his hair helped him feel slightly better, and Ryan’s hand catching his own and squeezing made him smile.

 

…

 

Ryan gets him one more time in the middle of the party.  Nobody was paying much attention, too drunk to really focus on anything.  Jon was glad for that when Ryan pressed tight against his back and whispered, “Want me to kiss it better?” 

 

Jon smiled, wrapped his arm around Ryan’s waist and practically carried him off to the hotel room they were sharing that night.  When Brendon got predictably shitfaced (because he was a total lightweight and too confident in his own abilities sometimes with a bad habit of not saying no to people), Spencer could carry him to bed all by himself with those stupidly strong arms of his. 

 

Ryan went easily, laughing the entire way.  Just as Jon was unlocking the door to his room, Ryan’s hand came up and cupped the left side of Jon’s ass.  “One to grow on,” he whispered, and once inside the hotel room, he totally made it up to him.

  
  


…

  
Jon couldn’t wait for everyone else’s birthdays to come up.  They had it fucking coming to them.

**Author's Note:**

> it's 1:30 in the morning, so i should probably get a start on my homework, huh? only got one year left of being a teenage dirtbag before adulthood hits.
> 
> help 
> 
> love,   
> your local kink

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Old traditions (29 isn't old guys)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13677651) by [Hopefully_not_a_shitty_ballerina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopefully_not_a_shitty_ballerina/pseuds/Hopefully_not_a_shitty_ballerina)




End file.
